


The A Word

by brookebond



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ariadne is Eames' personal trainer, Eames works a boring job, Food Blogger! Arthur, M/M, POV Eames (Inception), and sane, and so he cooks to keep himself entertained
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-29 02:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/pseuds/brookebond
Summary: When Eames first moved to America, he was at a loss for things to cook. He wasn’t used to the supermarkets and ingredients he needed were expensive. So he Googled food bloggers and found Arthur’s blog. The weekly updates keep Eames going in his boring office job. It takes him a few months before he gets the courage to comment but it’s all downhill from there. Eames is lost with Arthur’s sardonic commentary and when Arthur’s next recipe is one that Eames requested, he knows he’s in bad.





	The A Word

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the Inception Big Bang 2019.  
I want to make a note that there has been some personal issues and the fic isn't quite finished right now but it's being written and so this will be posted in chapters! I'm thinking this is going to be either 3 or 4 chapters. Hopefully I won't get too carried away but I have been known to do so.
> 
> The artists for this piece are zigster and KMO (I was super lucky and got 2 artists!) and I will include their images in the respective chapters.
> 
> This has not been beta-read so hopefully there aren't any mistakes, but things happen. Please don't leave a comment about it here, though. If you know me, send me a DM on tumblr and talk to me there.

If someone were to ask him, Eames would never had said he’d see himself living in New York, desperately wishing he was back in New Zealand. But, as it was, he missed the easy-going nature of Kiwis, the warm (but not too hot) weather, and he even missed the bloody sheep. What he missed most, other than his mates, was the quality of produce. Eames’ cooking—and subsequently diet and physique—was suffering. It was nearly impossible to create what he was used to and so he’d turned to the internet.

It was overwhelming, the sheer volume of food bloggers out there, but it gave Eames variety. Though, so many of the blogs seemed to be aimed at families or people who wanted to eat the same meal five days in a row. None of them were what Eames wanted or needed.

“It’s like they think anyone attempting to cook is a middle-aged housewife with a few sprogs running underfoot who won’t eat anything save for fish fingers and custard—”

“That’s disgusting.”

“—Or some strange combination of vegetables hidden in the most disturbing meals I’ve ever seen.” Eames had scoured the food blogs for anything that may have been appealing but, after the most recent attempt, Eames was close to not using the internet for anything food related ever again. He’d even given in and searched Pinterest. But that hell hole hadn’t yielded anything either.

“Are you done?” Ariadne asked, hands on her hips as she stared at Eames with a single raised eyebrow.

“For now,” Eames replied with a shrug and turned to the weight machine in front of him. It was the last exercise in the circuit, the last thing he needed to do before he could go home and despair about the state of the food blogging world without the judgement of a petite brunette who could quite easily crush Eames if she put her mind to it.

“Good, then let’s get started. I’m thinking ten sets to start.”

—

Ariadne was horrible. She was cruel, barbaric, merciless, vicious, horrid, and every other synonym Eames couldn’t think of because even his mind was exhausted after the gruelling workout Ariadne had tortured him with.

When Eames had finally made it home, he had collapsed onto the couch, his iPad retrieved from behind the couch cushion to keep him entertained while the feeling slowly returned to his legs. Food was his main priority and, as he opened the browser, Eames decided it would be his last attempt to find anything food related on the internet. After the gym session, carbs were on the top of Eames’ list of things he wanted to eat. It would help regain some semblance of strength, even if it was purely mental. 

He knew the fridge was nearly barren since it was Thursday but there was enough that he could make something pasta related. With that in mind, Eames entered the Google search and hoped (prayed) something decent would turn up.

There was the usual depressing results; too many suggestions for something that used hamburger helper which twisted Eames stomach. There were some things that should never be made. Desperation found him clicking to the second page of results. It was a testament to the atrocity that was plaguing him and it made Eames wonder if he was merely being too fussy and if he shouldn’t just give one of the blogs a try anyway.

With a heavy sigh, Eames clicked on a link for a blog titled ‘The A Word’. The name alone didn’t scream food blog but it was refreshing not seeing another ridiculous food pun.

The first thing Eames noticed was the layout; clean and sleek, nothing screaming for his attention. The second thing was the photo of a gorgeous dark-haired guy smirking at the camera, a dimple pressing into his left cheek. It was enough to keep Eames on the page even though the recipe was for some strange concoction of hamburger macaroni. One of the many things that should never have been made.

Eames clicked on the blog title to load the home page. Like the recipe page, it wasn’t cluttered, everything laid out in a visually pleasing way with photos of food being the main focus. Every picture made Eames’ mouth water, his stomach grumbling as it demanded to be fed. There were three images of pasta dishes—one of them being the bizarre hamburger macaroni that had brought him to the blog—but it’s the picture of carbonara, crispy pieces of bacon sitting atop a pile of perfectly spiraled spaghetti. The decision was taken from Eames the moment he spied bacon; he had never been able to pass up an opportunity to eat bacon.

— — —

**SPAGHETTI ALLA CARBONARA**

_ When I was in Italy, I told myself I would try every kind of food I could get my hands on. But, as my roommate would love to point out, I didn’t follow through on that. Every place we went, if carbonara was on the menu, I got it. Big deal, right? I like carbonara. Sue me. (But don’t really cause I couldn’t actually afford that). _

_ Anyway, carbonara. Who doesn’t like spaghetti, eggs, cheese, and some form of meat? It’s a match made in heaven. So, back to the story, I ate  _ ** _a lot_ ** _ of carbonara while I was in Italy. Suffice to say, I think I got a pretty decent handle on what makes a good carbonara and what makes one need a little bit of extra TLC to get it to that incredible place that makes you moan in pleasure. You know what I mean. _

_ I wanted to find a way that would make this more accessible for people who think carbonara is in the too hard basket. I’m hoping I’ve managed to achieve that. _

_ The blog is short and sweet this week so we can just get straight to the food. I know what you really come here for, I won’t hold that against you, promise. Let me know what you think, if you think I’ve managed to open the world of carbonara to you or if I need to try a little harder. (But really, what kind of heathen would tell me that, right? This is an incredible dish, don’t break my heart). _

_ Pour yourself a glass of chablis (unless you’re underage to which I would recommend getting a nice sparkling water to class it up a bit) and eat up. _

_ Side note: this is made with raw eggs which are cooked through the heat of the pasta but not fully cooked as in making scrambled eggs. So, please be aware of this! _

—

SPAGHETTI ALLA CARBONARA

You will need:

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil or butter (I prefer butter, lots of it)

½ pound pancetta or thick cut bacon (if you can’t get your hands on the deliciousness that is pancetta), diced

1-2 garlic cloves, minced (or as much as your heart desires, I lean towards 6 or 8)

3-4 whole eggs

1 cup grated parmigiano reggiano

1 pound spaghetti pasta (because you can’t have spaghetti alla carbonara without the spaghetti)

Salt and black pepper to taste

—

First, put on a pot of water to boil because this will take a while. You want a fairly large pot because the idea is to not break the pasta into smaller pieces (though I suppose you could, if you are a heathen).

Then, you want to heat a pan (or skillet if you’re feeling adventurous) and melt your butter in the pan (I put butter here because I’m trying to convince you that this is the only way to make this dish. Is it working yet?)

Once your pan (or skillet) is hot and the butter is melted and probably sizzling away a little bit, toss in your garlic and pancetta (or bacon). The goal is to have that perfect sizzling sound as soon as you put the pancetta in. But, if it doesn’t make that noise, it’s still alright. It’ll all cook the same in the end.

Keep an eye on your water, hopefully by now it’s boiling away and letting you know it’s ready to go. Before you put the pasta in, salt your water. You want your water to taste like the sea. (Which, sure, sounds weird but trust me on this, okay?). When your water tastes like it could heal your wounds, add your pasta and give it a swirl so it’s in a little whirlpool. This is to make sure your pasta doesn’t stick and leave you with one big gluggy mess.

Now, you need to keep an eye on your pancetta and garlic because if you look away for too long, it will burn. It’s a delicate process to make sure your pancetta gets nice and crispy (which is why you should use it instead of bacon, I promise it’s worth it!). While keeping an eye on your pan, make sure to give your pasta a swirl every now and then, just for good measure.

While your pan and pot are busy doing their thing, you need to grab your parmigiano reggiano and grate the crap out of it. You want a good amount of it to mix with your eggs (which you should crack and make sure there’s no shell anywhere except in the trash). Salt and pepper your eggs a little bit as well.

Hopefully once you’ve got all that done, your pasta should be ready to go. (Hopefully you set a timer because I for one always forget to check back on it and please, for the love of all things holy, do not throw your pasta against a wall to test it). Take your pancetta pain off the heat. Drain your pasta and then toss it into the pan with the pancetta and garlic. Add your egg and cheese mixture and toss to make sure all of the spaghetti gets coated in the egg and that it has a chance to get all cooked.

Once that is done, plate up and enjoy!

— — —

The blog was nothing like Eames has ever read before. There was a strange mix of humour and bluntness that left Eames feeling as though this blogger was a mercurial mystery and actually drew him in even more. It was incredible, really, and, as he had already determined, the food looked exactly like something he could enjoy.

A quick look in his fridge showed Eames he had everything he needed to make the carbonara save for parmigiano reggiano but Eames was sure the block of parmesan sitting in the butter compartment would suffice.

The longest part of the process was waiting for the water to boil, but, once it was bubbling away on the stove, everything came together in a flash. It took all of twenty minutes for Eames to finish cooking, leaving his mess on the counter with the smell of bacon convincing him to test the pasta out before he even stepped foot out of his kitchen. Eames took his fork, twirling it in the spaghetti and gathering an obscenely large amount before shoving it in his mouth. It was divine; creamy with the bacon pieces adding a pleasant crunch amidst the soft pasta.

Eames finished the bowl of pasta in record time, the desire to savour the food rather than scoff it down almost winning out over his grumbling stomach. But he couldn’t help himself. The food was delicious and Eames was grateful for the bizarre hamburger macaroni that had drawn him to The A Word. Without that strange concoction, Eames would still have been lamenting the food blogging world and would have been without a bookmark to a fantastically entertaining blog.


End file.
